His lips moved feebly, and she bent down till they touched her in one last feeble kiss.
‘God—bless you—Ruth,’ he murmured, but so faintly that she could hardly hear it.
He never spoke again.
Her name was the last word upon his lips.
CHAPTER LXIV.
GURTH AND HECKETT.
The news of the terrible accident on the railway had travelled far, and Edward Heritage’s name had been seen among the list of the injured.
The identity of Squire Heritage with Edward Marston was known to Birnie and Egerton. The latter was the first to bring the news of his death to Josh Heckett. The sudden and tragic termination of Marston’s career materially altered the aspect of affairs. He was beyond the reach of all vengeance now.
Gurth, relieved by the discovery that the crime he had accused himself of for years had existed only in his imagination, was in a sufficiently charitable frame of mind to bear no malice towards a man who could now do him no further harm. He had always had an intuitive dread of Marston. Birnie had played his cards so well that both Gurth and Heckett had always believed their old comrade knew more about the affray in Heckett’s gambling-den than he cared to say.
‘And so he’s the fust to go arter all!’ exclaimed the old man, raising himself with difficulty in the arm-chair where George had placed him. He was so weak now that he required assistance to get across the room. That burly frame had shrunk, and his clothes hung loosely about him. His massive jaws were sunken, and the fierce eyes, large and bright with the fatal light of consumption, were set in deep violet circles. Every now and then a distressing cough shook him as a whirlwind shakes the old tree, and the great beads of perspiration caused by the paroxysm trickled down his attenuated face.
‘You’re very bad, Josh,’ said Gurth, as he sat by his side.